


half of eternity with you

by HQcharbon (fleurdelester)



Series: twitter bingo challenge [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe - Mythology, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, based off persephone and hades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdelester/pseuds/HQcharbon
Summary: Akaashi has spent his whole life running from fate, until he is brought into the underworld.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: twitter bingo challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048276
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	half of eternity with you

**Author's Note:**

> written for Andrea

The grass tickles across his feet, bare and caked with a thick layer of mud. The sun shining brightly above him bares down on his neck, a warmth so intense it’s almost scalding to his neck, a constant reminder of the metaphorical and literal eyes watching him from above.

He needed an escape, from the watchful eyes from his mother on Olympus, from the duties that would eventually befall to him as the son of Demeter. He loved his mother, he truly did, but being born a god made him feel like he was given a pair of shoes three sizes too big to fill, rather than letting him blossom into the role in his own time.

“You okay there, Akaashi?” Konoha, the nymph and one of Akaashi’s closest (re: only) friends asks, trudging across the field to him. “You seem lost in thought.”

Akaashi sighs. “I guess I am.”

He leaned down to pick one of the flowers at his feet, a yellow tulip with it’s bud still prickled up, not yet blossoming amongst its peers in a field of blooms. He waved his hand over it, willing its petals to open, sympathizing over the late bloomer. He turns the flower over in his hands, picking anxiously at its stems.

“Do you ever want to run away?” He asks nervously, immediately wanting to retract his words as soon as the heathens escape his tongue. Konoha is different, the expectations on him were pebbles in comparison to the boulders that threatened to crush Akaashi’s spirit anytime he thought about it for too long.

“Sometimes.” Konoha shrugs. “I know things are different for you than they are for me, ‘Kaashi, but fate works in mysterious ways. It might be rough now, but I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Akaashi leans over to pick another flower, a white carnation that was beginning to dry out around the edges.

Just as he’s about to reach and grab the stem, threatening to pluck it from its home in the soil, the earth opens up below him, a dark void with nothing but a single hand reaching out, grabbing hold of Akaashi’s wrist and not letting go, dragging him to the underworld below.

All Akaashi feels is the weight of his body as it freefalls, dropping hundreds of feet below the surface. The wind whistles in his ears and his hair whips across his face, and all at once he feels like he’s floating and crashing, nothing around him, not even a source of light to ground him.

A pair of arms circle around him, a muscular chest pressing against his back to cushion his fall on impact as they land with a thud, but as soon as they stop, he’s put back down on solid ground, the change in velocity causing dizziness in his head as he begins to feel faint, his eyes drooping shut before he succumbs to the loss of consciousness.

He wakes, hours later perhaps, he can’t tell, resting on a bed of silk, black and gold surrounding him as far as the eye can see in the dim candlelight of the room. He knows that he’s in the underworld, but as to who brought him there and _why_ , he has no idea.

He takes the candlestick from the table it rests on and ventures out of the room, following the twisting hallways until he gets to where he’s looking for.

In the large chamber sits a single pair of thrones, and sitting atop one of them is Bokuto, the god of the underworld. His amber eyes glean when he sees that Akaashi has entered.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Akaashi.” He says, an amused tilt to his voice. “I was worried it’d be another century before you’d join me.”

“Century?” Akaashi asks. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Only a few hours,” Bokuto shrugs.

Akaashi should have expected this kind of hyperbole from him. As an Olympian, Bokuto had to have dealings with his mother fairly often, and every once in a while, Akaashi was forced to tag along, to learn the tricks of the trade, as his mother had put it. The man was always bright and cheery, the opposite of what you’d expect from someone who governs the dead in the afterlife, but his boisterous personality never went unnoticed by Akaashi.

“Why am I here?” He asked, suspicious of Bokuto’s intentions. Had he just kidnapped him in order to cut a deal of some kind over his mother? As a source of leverage?

“Your mother always keeps you under lock and key, ‘Kaashi.” He says plainly. “I just wanted to get to know you a bit better, I’ve always found your beauty to be irresistible, but I could never get close. I figured here we wouldn’t be interrupted by Demeter’s prying eyes.”

“You thought the best way to get to know me was by kidnapping me?” Akaashi was furious, immediately storming away without giving Bokuto a chance to answer. He found his way back to the chamber he awoke in, burying himself within the pillows and silks in an attempt to block out his unfortunate twist of fate from worming into his mind.

He knew, objectively, that he was considered beautiful, that gods and goddesses alike wanted to seek him out for his hand in marriage, which is why his mother had been so strict about keeping him shielded from their attention. As a result, he grew up incredibly sheltered, and now he felt trapped with no way out.

In a way, he felt a sense of freedom being here in the underworld, even though he hadn’t been brought here on his own will. As the days passed, Bokuto came and went, letting Akaashi have the space he needed, leaving food and coming by to talk with him each day.

At first, Bokuto tried to engage him in conversation, trying to defend his actions, trying to ask Akaashi about himself, but soon he realized that was going nowhere, and switched to just telling anecdotes, speaking about himself, all while wearing his heart on his sleeve.

It was endearing, truly, how he became childlike when he spoke his mind. At first Akaashi would keep his back turned, but at some point he felt himself wanting to gaze into those amber eyes, wanting to hear the others laugh, wanting himself to be the source of that laugh.

When he eventually crossed the threshold, to turn around and just _look_ , he was awestruck at the other man. He showed a kindness to Akaashi that he’d never experienced before, a gentleness around the edges of his rough core. He supposes he _has_ to be rough to an extent, dealing with the dead all day taking a toll on the mind until he reaches a hardened exterior.

But Bokuto always gave him his space, never forced Akaashi to talk, and just let Akaashi listen as he rambled. Akaashi felt _good_ here, like the boulders that had been threatening to crush his spirit earlier on had been lifted away by Bokuto’s strong arms.

It wasn’t the fate he had been assigned, but it felt like if he wanted to stay here, he’d be taking a choice for himself for once.

Bokuto had left food in his room every day, a simple plate with golden embellishments on which rested a single pomegranate.

He never took it, knowing how food in the underworld works. If he ate even a single seed, he’d be forced to stay, but he was beginning to think that was what he wanted.

Bokuto entered his room one day to see that Akaashi had already cracked open the pomegranate, pondering at the glossy seeds that threatened to spill out into his palm.

“Akaashi,” he said, addressing him directly for the first time in the weeks that Akaashi had been there. “You know what will happen if you eat those right?”

“I do, Bokuto-san.” He answered, still not looking up from the fruit in his hand.

“Demeter– your mother, she’ll throw a fit once she finds out!” Bokuto said, panic beginning to edge at his voice. “She’ll destroy the earth, a thousand times over if she knows you did this.”

“But this would be me making a choice, gaining control over my life.” Akaashi said, finally meeting Bokuto’s eyes.

Bokuto looked perplexed, his expression morphing into pure confusion, with wide eyes and furrowed brows, so Akaashi continued.

“I have spent my whole life running from fate,” he whispered quietly, just loud enough that Bokuto could hear. “For you, I’d let the earth die a thousand times, just to spend a season more in your warmth.”

He took the pomegranate seeds and counted them out, six in total in the palm of his hand, and put them in his moth, the sourness of the seeds dancing across his tastebuds as he chewed.

Bokuto watched him, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. “I can’t wait to spend half of eternity with you.”

And honestly, neither could Akaashi.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! this fic falls pretty out of my comfort zone, so it was a fun challenge! happy new year and i hope to catch you on ao3 or my twitter @HQcharbon in 2021!


End file.
